Nightmare of a life
by Toriloveswriting
Summary: Haymitch Abernathys story from his first year mentoring to when i decide his story is complete. This is my first fanfiction, and I would love if you could check it out!  Discalimer : I do not own the hunger games in any way.
1. Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

''Marissa? Marissa? MARISSA?''. I would have recognised her face from a mile, but I didn't have too - she was only the other side of the square. As I was stood near the middle, she was 100 meters away at the most. Her long black hair tied behind her back, and her mint coloured dress brought the colour in her sea green eyes. I started to push past the people in the crowd, my heart beating so fast I was sure that the whole of district 12 could here it. It go faster, pounding so hard it hurt. Screaming sounds were coming from somewhere in the crowd, and it took me a minute to realise they were my own, escaping my lips without warning, repeating the same word over, and over, and over again. Marissa. My Marissa. Starting to run, I realised that people where parting to let me through ,almost like a tunnel, and at the end of, instead of light, was her. With each step I took, her features became more clear; the freckles on her face, the long lashes that framed her eyes, the tears that formed in her eyes. Hastening my pace, I began to full on sprint, my legs pounding on the worn paves on the ground, my screams borderline hysterical - I was so close, I could almost touch her face if I stretched out, but then I felt something pulling me back, dragging me away from my Marissa, away from the only person who ever truly loved me into reality. Dragging me away from my dreams, straight into the nightmare of my life.

Opening my eyes is the worst part of my day. Parting me from the people I dream of, each one the most precious thing I have. Had. Although the dreams are somewhat traumatic they are considerably better than the slog of my current life.

''Haymitch. Haymitch? ''I looked up from my pillow and into the eyes of Salli.

''Im guessing by your screams it was Marissa that you dreamed of last night.'' She says it as if she understands, and for all I know she could have dreams like this, but I wouldn't know as I never bother to ask. Slowly I began to nod my head, then more vigorously until there was no point trying to stop them coming because no amount of shaking or distracting was going to stop them leaking today. Floods of tears dripped onto the bed, mixed in with screams and cries of pain. Salli sat down on the bed beside me and stroked the hair of my face while I sobbed.

''Marissa's are always the worst'', she says, ''aren't they. All the dreams I have are hard, - Mother, Luke… Marissa. Each one the same, me running, shrieking, reaching for them and then being forced back in my room in Victors Village. You would think I would think I would hate my dreams, but I can't even contemplate hating anything if it has my family involved. Apart from there death, that is. I hate that. But, yes, Salli is right. Marissa;s dreams are always the hardest to wake up from. But then again, why am I surprised? Salli seems to be always right.

'' Come on, big day today. First reaping as a mentor. It'll be nice to have some company this year, rather than on me own.'' I know what she means. It must be hell mentoring all the kids on your own, watching then die on your own, I don't know how Salli does it, I mean, she's what, 65 now? To be honest I don't know how Im going to do it either.

The clock hits two and any person whispering in the crowd falls silent. Mr. Magony, the mayor steps up and reads the history of Panem, the same way he does every signal year. He yabbers on about the rebellion and the destruction of district 13 for about 5 minutes. He then moves on to talking about the reason we are all gathered here. The Hunger Games. It is safe to say its not a particularly cheery speech. But then the hunger Games aren't a particularly cheery event are they? Getting 24 children, 2 from each district, and shove them in a big arena and make them fight till death- and all televised on live T.V. They do it to remind us that no matter what we try and do the Capitol is completely in power. To remind us that they can pick our innocent children and murder them in their 'Games'. To remind us that another rebellion would be the most stupid idea possible. Because the Capitol are in power. Not us. The thought of it used to make me feel sick. Now it just makes me feel angry. After he has finished his speech he reads out the list of victors, the winners of the games, that have come from District 12. There is usually only one name. Salli Lakeshore. But this year, for the first time, there is another name. My name. Haymith Abernathy. The crowd looks up expectantly at me, and then look down again in disappointment when I keep looking at the floor. Im not in the mood for waving and smiling. I don't think I'll ever be in that kind of mood again. Right on queue, Rosie Layon jumps up on the stage with her ridiculous fake smile in perfect place, her violet suits clashing hideously with her bright yellow hair.

''Happy Hunger Games! How exciting! Two mentors this year for everyone! Now lets get on with the reaping! Who WILL be first?'' Her falseness is so obvious its almost like she wants us to know how much she detests District 12. ''Now remember, may the odds be ever in your favour!'' She reaches into the big bowl of names with mock excitement. After a ridiculous amount of scrabbling around she finally produces a name.

''Michael Wingdale!'' After a few minutes of shuffling and pushing through the crowds of teenagers, A tall boy with blonde hair stands up to the stage. A wave of relief passes through me, as I realise that I don't know him. Rosie repeats the whole fiasco with the girls ball, spending far to long scrabbling inside the bowl. I felt like screaming at to just pick a name, for heavens sake. Finally she pulled out a slip of paper, and reads out the name in a calm voice.

'' Mary Wolcott''. I felt my insides crashing down, and a mound of anger slowly rising . Mary Wolcott was my old neighbour. Mary Wolcott was the one person who I promised Marissa I would look after when she was dying. In fact, it was her dying wish. Her dying wish was for me to look out for her little sister.


	2. Chapter 2

CHAPTER 2

Eugh. My head aches from all the alcohol I drank (or rather threw down my throat) at dinner and my whole room stinks of sick and sweat. I should really be ashamed about the spectacle I made of myself earlier this evening, but I honestly couldn't care less about what Rosie and all her capitol waiters think of me. In fact, I was rather pleased with my performance - it clearly showed them how little respect I had left for this whole pile of crap. No one else bothered to turn up for dinner apart from me and her. More food for me as far as I'm concerned. Well, actually, I cant even remember what we had for dinner. Too busy making the atmosphere uncomfortable by being rude to concentrate on eating. But I do remember having a fair bit of champagne. Oh, yeah, and 3 bottles of wine and a couple dozen vodka shots as well. You should have seen the look on Rosies face after the second bottle. It was the best thing I'd seen all day. After I was sick all over the carpet in the dining carriage I was ordered to my room. Shame, really. Falling over and acting more more drunk than I was was surprisingly enjoyable, if just to see the look of Rosies face, and the one of pure disgust on the avox who escorted me back to my room. But, now, I just feel sick. The slight feeling of achievement I had has been completely wiped away. I remembered why I was on the train in the first place. Way to kill a good mood. I roll over onto my side and let the cool pillow sooth my head which now feels as though it may explode. The carriage is silent apart from my own breath, and the soothing sound of the train moving. My eyes feel heavy and everything goes bla…

Pounding noises on my door woke me up the next day.

"Haymitch Abernathy, get your lazy drunken butt up and in the dining carriage NOW." Mutterings and footsteps down the corridor followed. Well, good morning to you too, Rosie. I lay in bed for a while, deciding whether to go to the dining carriage. A hungry gurgle from my stomach decided for me. I rolled out of bed and fumbled around for the light switch, and with turning it on assessed the state of my room. It was better than I imagined, just the bed clothes strewn on the floor and a pillow in the far corner. My bathroom, im sure, would be a different matter though. Well, it was in a bad way efore I started throwing up. Satisfied that the room was in a decent enough state to leave I ambled down the corridor into the dining carriage , thinking of sly insults I could make to make everyone feel awkward. As expected everyone was there. Breakfasts hold some sort of significance and everyone should be in attendance. Dinner, on the other hand obviously doesn't hold the same power. Rosie, was head of the table sporting a pink trouser suit, Salli was next to her wearing her usual comfy clothes and Mary and Michael were sat he other side of Rosie. I had been left seat right a the end. Everyone looked up as I walked in - and then collectively gasped in horror. Salli then spurted her tea onto the white tablecloth and Rosie made a small screaming sound.

"What on earth do you think you are doing!" she shrieked.

"I've come down for breakfast" I replied, somewhat in shock of their reaction to my appearance. You would think they would be pleased to see me - not shocked. Well, maybe Rosie had a reason, but the rest of them? l stood there in confusion, before realising that my hangover must make me look kinda gross. I must look really rough though, because Salli was covering Mary's eyes and Michel was turned away in disgust. Even the Avox where all stood there in horror.

I looked down to see if there was sick on my top or something. But there was nothing on my top. In fact I didn't have a top on at all. I was stood string down at myself when it hit me. I was stood in the dining carriage in front of about 10 people with just my slippers on. In my haste for food I had forgotten to put clothes on. In spite of myself, I couldn't help laughing - not only at my mistake, but also at their reactions.

"Think its funny do you? Hmmm? Because we certainly don't! Haymitch, you have taken it too far this time. Too far." Rosie's words hung in the air and made the tension in the room worse than it already was. She looked so annoyed that she had turned an interesting shade of purple, which clashed with her hair. An Avox ran over and grabbed me by wrist and dragged out the room. As I tuned to exit the dining room, I couldn't help but notice Salli shaking her head in disapproval. And knowing that I had disappointed Salli - the only person I had left - should have bothered me. But for some reason it just made me laugh harder.


	3. Chapter 3

CHAPTER 3

After the 'incident' at breakfast (or rather lack of, in my case) I spent the rest of the morning in my room. It felt as though I had been grounded, and if I stepped outside Rosie would be up in my face screaming at me. Ridiculous, I know. All I would get would be hostile glances from Avox's and waiters, I'm sure, but still - the thought of Rosie kept me inside. Cleaning the bathroom kept me occupied for a while, but soon I got restless and bored. Not to mention hungry. How I craved some something from the confectionary shop in the square back home. Maybe I could steal some chocolate from the kitchens. They where bound to have something sweet.

"_Stealing is punishable by death Haymitch. You know that."_

"_Marissa , you sound like my mother."_

"_I FEEL like your mother! But seriously, no more staling from Maysilee's fathers sweet shop. Please, Haymitch. For me._

"_So you don't want the gumdrops I got?"_

"_Well, now that you have them…."_

The memory made more tears brim up in my eyes. I picked up a pillow and ripped it in half, and white, perfect, capitol feathers fell around me, dancing in the air before falling delicately to the ground. Every stinking thing I did it reminded me of her. Sweets, Daffodils in the spring, birdsong. Every morning when I woke up to sunshine streaming through the windows, I saw her dancing in the meadow, her feet barefoot and her carefree laugh filling the air, breathing life into the plants, making it seem as though there was nothing wrong in the world. As if it was … perfect. But nothing was perfect in life. Nothing. Nothing was perfect without her. Smashing a vase into the wall and kicking the bed only aggravated me more and soon I was down to full throttle screaming and destruction mode. An unknown amount of time passed (it felt like minutes, but in my experience time passes fast when you are in a grief stricken rage) . Collapsing on my bed, I strained my memory to try and remember who I dreamed of last night. These kind of violent rages are triggered after a stressful night. Trying to remember which name I woke up screaming proved to be challenging, and time consuming. I sat up, now annoyed that I couldn't remember. The thought of my nights being black, full of nothing, empty even, made me feel a bit queasy. It had never crossed my mind until now. Those dreams had become as much as me as my hair or my smile. Besides, my only memories of them where fading fast. No dreams, no family. I sighed and lay on my back, putting my hand in front of my face to block out the bright, fluorescent light. It was only then I noticed the deep hash in my hand - I must have cut it smashing the toothbrush holder. The bed creaked noisily as I stood up and wandered over the door. I had conveniently been given a room near the medical room of the train. Whether this had been a coincidence or not was unknown. As I wandered down the corridor I decided it probably was a move on Rosie's part. I think I probably spent more time in there last year than anywhere on the train. I didn't get along with the other District 12 male tribute - he gave me a nasty black eye one night. Lets just say I got my revenge in the arena.


	4. Chapter 4

"You listen now and you listen well. I have had Enough of your -"

"You've had enough! I think we all have! We have all had enough of not being able to enjoy meals, to not be able to have civilised conversations with our mentor, to not be able to get a good nights sleep!"

"Excuse me? You know ruddy we-

"OK, OK, OK! But that doesn't explain his behaviour the rest of the time! Who gave him the right to make our lives hell? Those kids are going to have enough hell over the next few weeks, so he could at least make their last few days pleasant! I mean last year, we where all nice toward him!"

It had taken me a while to recognise their voices . It had taken me even longer to realise who they were on about. Rosie and Salli. Arguing about me, apparently.

"Ro-"

"Don't 'Rosie' me, Salli! That boy is rude, arrogant, selfish, ungrateful, and just…EUUGHHH!"

Rude? Of course I am. it's the way I am. But the rest of it? Arrogant, selfish… maybe. But ungrateful? No. I'm not ungrateful. I always say thank you. I do. I did the other night at dinner… I'm sure I did. And the time Salli passed me the butter… well grunting means thank, doesn't it? What the hell, I am ungrateful, selfish, arrogant and just plain rude. I've heard it all before, mostly from Rosie herself, so why this time it feel any different to all the other times?

"HAYMITCH! WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING HERE! I mean…. are you ok? That cut looks nasty, would you like a medic…"

Rosie had apparently just noticed me stood at the end of the corridor.

"I'm surprised by your concern Rosie, considering your recent comments." I turn my head and stare and the floor. Tears are threatening to spill over and public crying is the ultimate humiliation in my opinion. I always try to keep my 'attacks' as the doctor calls behind closed doors.

"And, If I where you I would be careful what you say." I lift my head up and meet her unusually turquoise eyes. "Because rude, arrogant, selfish and ignorant people have feelings too." My voice went and thick and wobbly at the end, and my eyes have gone all blurry.

"Haymitch, I think I should see the medic now. Blood is all over the floor". Salli had a point, there was blood everywhere. But, I wasn't stupid. I knew the real reason she wanted me to go. But, I wasn't in the mood, so I just nodded my head and shuffled down the corridor to the medic room - blood and now salty tears now falling to the floor.

The medic just nodded when I told her I had fallen on a vase in my room. It was a pathetic attempt at a cover story, but if I told her the real reason I had a large cut on my hand, I'm sure I would be reported to someone, probably the doctor, and be forced into weekly telephone calls and pointless leaflets on coping with depression, and fighting grief and guilt. I had enough of those to last a lifetime last year in the 'victor post-games program'. I have a slight phobia of phones after the torture of speaking to for a few hours a week.

Last year we did the personality page. You passed round a sheet of paper and everyone wrote down something about. I don't know what I was expecting, but when I got mine back, I wasn't pleased. It was a few months after the games, and 97 days since the fire that killed… them. My sheet had the same comment written over and over again. Sometimes in blue, sometimes black, big, small, printed or cursive. It didn't matter though, each time it had been scribbled down it had the same meaning. _Haymitch is a Victor. The nicest thing anyone in that whole room could say about me was that I was a child murderer. And today, I can finally understand why._


	5. Chapter 5

**TheLittleSilverWhistle**: **Im glad you liked it! I try and put emotion, etc. into my stories and Im glad I suceeded!**

Hey everyone! This chapter is unbelievably short, more of a inbetweeny one to carry the story through - Next (full length!) update should be in about a week or so. Thank you so so much for all the comments, I really do appreciate them all. Enjoy!

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><p>"Haymitch? Haymitch… Can I come in?". Here we go again.<p>

"Haymitch, look, just open the door. Please." I ignored her and carried on staring at the ceiling. I didn't want to give support and help. Not now, not ever. Especially not to her. Why would anyone want me to mentor them anyway? I'm rude and selfish and ignorant. In my experience rude and selfish and ignorant people tend to not only be rude and selfish and ignorant people but also stupid. Rosie had also joined her outside my door now. Ooh, goody. Let them stand there. I don't care.

"For goodness sake! Stop the self pity party already, why don't you? What I said earlier was true and you know it Haymitch. Get dressed and stop rolling around acting like a slob - act like an idiot on the train but you are NOT embarrassing us all in the capitol, not in my books. Come on… chop chop!" She was looking even more ridiculous than usual - blue, orange and yellow all featured in her outfit that in my opinion had a striking resemblance to a parrot. But there was a sparkle in her eyes that wasn't their this morning, one that I hadn't seen since last year. Not since the last Hunger Games.

"Come on Mary, dear, lets get you looking presentable too. Don't want to look scruffy For the cameras now do we!" She ushered Mary from my door and walked down the corridor with her in tow.

"I mean it Haymitch! NOW!".

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><p><strong>Told you it was short! Reviews and subscriptions make my day, so even if its just a quick one, its greatly appreciated :)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

Memories. Some are good, some are bad, some hurt, others fill you with joy. Memories. I had had a steady stream of them on the train, but here in the training centre it was like an ongoing flood . I seemed to have a déjà vu every time I turned a corner or saw an Avox - and although it was at times painful, it oddly felt comforting. It was the most at home I had felt in a long time - I was pleased about that. When we arrived I was introduced to my my room. It's different from last year - more luxurious, and at least was double the size. I was also introduced to the 'mentor lounge'. A comfortable room where all the mentors from each district can meet up and can meet up talk 'tactics' as it was put to me by Rosie, who is in a considerably better mood now that we are in the capitol, which was benefiting us all immensely. Even I can feel myself getting more excited, happier. For the very first time in about a year, I feel content. Sat in my room, watching some rubbish about architectural history in district 6 on my T.V and scoffing down a lamb-thing, in the capitol. Who'd have thought?

The happy streaked continued. At dinner I dressed up in a suit I found in a cupboard, combed my hair and even brushed my teeth with some green goo in the bathroom. Heavens knows what it was as my mouth felt like fire afterwards, but at least my breath didn't stink. On the way to the dining hall I nodded to the avox's, smiled at some lost looking girl and even found myself singing in the corridor. Rosie and Salli kept exchanging shocked looks over dinner every time I made or joke laughed, and when I commented on how nice Rosie's dress was she almost fell off her chair in shock. It was the first compliment I had made in a very long time, and a complete lie too - but, some magical capitol force had put me in a very unusual mood.

That night I overheard Rosie and Salli talking. They had been on the wine and had turned from secretly loathing to best buds in the space of an evening. It was comical really. Their rendition of the capitol anthem and the talks of the previous contestants where funny, and in the former case, absolutely hilarious. They where in the corridor and had been on the subject of me for some time.

"Must be something in the water!"

"I know what you mean… very out of character, but hey! I'm not complaining!".

"Lets just hope it lasts. Maybe he wont be as useless as we all anticipated."

"You know, I got a request for a one-off quarter quell victor documentary about him to be filmed earlier. He's the talk of the capitol!" They laughed and carried on the down the corridor chatting about this one-off returning victor thing. But, talk of the town, eh? Maybe this wouldn't be as horrid as I thought…

Lovely line!

Crowded square. People everywhere. Luc's face - is it Luc? Yes, must be. Screams. Pounding heartbeats.

"LUC! NO, NO, STAY THERE, DON'T MOVE! PLEASE!

Hysterical screams. People parting. Sweat pouring down my face, mixed with tears.

"I'M COMING, STAY THERE NO PLEASE, LET GO! GET OFF ME!"

Someone pulling me back. Luc crying, screaming my name, reaching for me. But, his face is faded, all blurry and changing each time I look at it.

NO! LUC! I LOVE -"

I sit up. I'm drenched in sweat, and alone. I lie down and let the darkness swallow me up.

Memories. Some are good, some are bad, some hurt, others fill you with joy. But all I know is that I'm finally losing the ones I love the most.


	7. Chapter 7

The break of dawn streamed through my windows, the noise of people chatting and cars mixed with a the quiet humming electricity coming from the television, which I couldn't work out how to turn off. Wafting up from along the corridor was an interesting, but delicious smell. Breakfast. Unfortunately, the pleasant was blocked out by the gross, which in this case was the stench of sweat which overpowered everything. Disgusting, I know. Propping myself up on one elbow I took in my surroundings - they hadn't noticeably changed, but something felt different, odd, like someone was watching me.

"Good morning! Oh, how lovely to see you again Haymitch! But look at the state of you! Hair everywhere! Goodness me… we have to get you sorted!" I turned around to find myself staring straight into a pair of far too bright turquoise eyes. Off all the people I wanted to see after last night, it was certainly not them. My prep team. The most self-indulged, arrogant idiots in the Panem. But they are so stupid, you cant hold it against them. Honestly, I think they do like me…in there own way. Last year they cried when they said goodbye to me. I don't know why I'm so shocked though - I knew this was coming. Tonight was the opening ceremony, so not only do all the tributes get 're made', the mentors do to. Oh goody.

"Now…. If you just want to get dressed, we can take you to the re make centre!". In my prep team, Cora, the crazy blonde one with pink streaks in her hair was the only one who seemed to talk. Layo and Karmin only ever seemed to giggle in a high pitched tone. "Chop chop! Come on dear, there isn't time to waste!

I didn't even bother to ask how on earth they got in here. Probably picked the lock with a pair of tweezers.

Its nice to be back in my room, to let the pain of today sink in. My whole body aches after the hours of tugging and pulling, waxing and plucking, and being shoved in a suit and plonked in the District 12 mentor room , which is basically a plain room with a big telly and a table full of food. All the other district's rooms are along the corridor somewhere, and even with the door shut you could hear they laughing. The whole night was a disaster, to say the least. Our tributes looked ridiculous in the coal miner jumpsuits they had on. Then when they stopped at the Mansion, Mary had a sneezing fit and the shock of it made Michael practically fall off the carriage. The whole country was probably wetting themselves. We can probably wave goodbye to the small chance of sponsorship that once stood - the only hope is that they manage amazing training scores or a fantastic interview, and neither of these things look as though they are going to happen. Although Michael is a merchant kid, he has the personality of grass; dull, uniform and very boring. Mary trips over her own feet, and is so scared that someone screaming nearly causes a heart attack. I mean, I even heard Salli complaining about her. At least I don't have to mentor her though. Michael wanted me as a mentor, Salli wanted Mary to mentor, I wanted to go home and not be a mentor. It all worked out swimmingly, really. Maybe tomorrow will be better. Yes, tomorrow will be better. They go to training, I go to 'mingle' (Rosie's word, not mine) with other mentors and discuss the approaching games. Relax. Relax before I get to sit and watch people my own age and younger kill each other. I'm almost wetting myself with excitement.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oi. freindly, any chance of a smile? Your scowl is making me feel sad." Snarling, I turn my head to my left, and tense to stand up. But then I sit down again. Standing over me is the 6 ft frame of Chaff Argon. Or 'the one-handed joker', as they refer to him on the television. Its obvious where the one handed bit comes from (He lost his left hand in his Games) and the joker is probably from the endless pranks he pulls on people. In the year before lasts games he put a spider on the Mayors chair at his District's reaping.

"Sorry, but no. I only smile at one person a day and I used it up on an Avox this morning".

"Well there's always tomorrow. Unless that's reserved for someone?" The sofa I am sat on sags as he sits down. Although I harden my scowl, I'm secretly pleased he has come over. The happiness I felt when I arrived got wiped away after lots of painful memories returned after I watched a television show about my games yesterday evening. Plus it had been a rough night - not that this was out of the ordinary. I now just felt lonely, and since Salli was talking to her friends the other side of the room, I had retreated to this sofa in the corner. I had always liked Chaff, ever since he had won the games 6 years ago. The way he just seemed so above the Capitol and its fancy ways made me laugh. But Obviously no one was above the capitol.

"So, enjoying your first year as mentor?"

"No particularly. Its… painful."

"It gets a hell of a lot worse when the Games actually start, trust me. What district are you again?"

"12" I reply.

"I'm 11, so we will be next door to each other in the games."

"Huh?"

"In the games, all the Mentors sit in a big room to watch the Games. The phones to the Game makers are in there and stuff. When it gets down to it, some of the Mentors sleep in there. The 11&12 its are next to each other"

"I see."

"You can really see it if you want. I'll show you." Chaff stood up and beckoned me to do the same, a big grin forming on his face.

"Come on!" he laughed, as I reluctantly got up. "It's a pretty nice room, really."

The room was as I imagined, and Chaff decscribed. It was small, but cosy. There where 12 groups of chairs spread around the room, each with a table and two phones.

"It doesn't stay like this. Everyone pulls the chairs around so they can sit with the same mentors as there tributes allies. If they don't ally or die quickly then we tend to sit with our friends." All of the chairs where facing a big screen, where I guess they showed the Games.

"It splits up, covering each of the tributes in one bit. If there's a big fight sometimes they make it fill the whole thing, but not always." Chaff showed me rest of the building we where in, though there wasn't much to see. A few kitchens, and that was really it. When we returned to the mentors lounge Chaff wandered off to find some food. I sat down and suddenly felt a wave of happiness wash over me. Being with Chaff, was like being home. Then I remembered were I was and felt and the wave retreated, leaving me cold and as miserable as before.


	9. Chapter 9

**This is a bit random, really. Its short and sweet to say the least!**

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><p>"So. I guess we could go innocent?"<p>

"I'd be good at that."

"That's because you are innocent."

"Very innocent. As innocent as a future killer can be."

I smiled. Mentoring day had rolled around. The kids had been in training for the past 3 days, got their scores (Mary - 5, Michael - 7), and now interviews where the next thing happening. Salli was doing posture and stuff. I was doing the content, the personality which would come across on the T.V. I have no idea why we where doing it this way around, as Salli herself had said numerous times my personality lacked on the friendly, cheerful side. How on earth was I meant to make these two appealing when I wasn't appealing myself? Last year I remember going with a cocky, arrogant rude angle. My attempts at anything else (cheerful, humorous, outgoing, pleasant, even personality bypass) failed. So I was myself. Michael was starting with Salli, so I was with Mary.

"Try it then. I'll ask you a question, you answer 'innocently'. What is the best thing about the Capitol?" I expected bad acting, and to have to try a different tactic.

" Oh, everything is magical" She replied, her face alight. "The people, the food, the architecture. I love it here. Its beautiful - a world away from District 12." I stared at her in shock. It honestly seemed as though she loved the Capitol. I knew for a fact she hated it.

"Haymitch? Was is that bad?"

"No it was good. Really good. Um next question?

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><p><strong><strong>


	10. Chapter 10

This ones for **carmencielle.** Thank for all the reviews, and for sticking with me and Haymitch the whole way :)

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><p>"Let the 51st Hunger Games begin!" 60 seconds, running, screaming, blood, tears, pleading, death. Mary, being stabbed in the stomach, Michael running, being shot with an arrow. One by one the kids dropped, weapons sticking out from all angles, first shrieks of agony, then silence. There was only one person left, standing alone in the centre, an axe held in his hand. Turning around, he looked at the 23 bodies that littered the ground. As he turned my heart beat faster, his features becoming clearer. The arch of his jaw, the colour of his eyes, the way his hair fell across his face, until he was facing me, his brown eyes fixed on my face. My brown eyes.<p>

"HAYMITCH! UP! NOW!" I woke up with a start, my ears being graced with the noise of Rosie, stressed as ever, banging on my door screaming her head off. Stumbling out of bed, I yanked open the door, ready to make a cutting comment about manners. But she beat me to it.

"The hovercraft is here already, you moron! You have exactly five minutes to make yourself presentable! After the disaster of last night, all we need now is YOU looking like a scruff bag. I am sick of this District ruining my career, with your argumentative ways, and your disgusting lack of well fed, capable tributes!" She brushed an invisible piece of dirt of her suit, and looked up at me again, this time the grimace replaced with an overly lips ticked smile. "See you in five minutes. Please". I was just about to slam the door and climb back into bed when I heard her shout down the corridor.

"I mean it, Haymitch!"

"You look rough. Bad night?"

"Every nights a bad night, Chaff, but yes it was an especially bad one".

"Alcohol helps."

"What?"

"I found if you get drunk, then it blocks stuff out. I sleep like a log after drinking enough of it." I thought about it for a minute. The night on the train when I had too much to drink I slept without any interruptions, no dreams, nothing.

"I -"

I was interrupted by Salli yelling at me to come and sit down, for goodness sakes, it was about to start.

"Well, I guess this is it then." I said, forcing a smile.

"May the best tribute win".


	11. Chapter 11

**LAST CHAPTER!**

**OK, I know, its been a couple months since I updated, but life's been busy and I haven't had a chance too. Its short, but I like how it ends. Im sad to say goodbye to this, I have enjoyed it so much. ENJOY, COMMENT, REVIEW!**

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><p>The room was buzzing with atmosphere. The career mentors huddled together, grinning and pretending to stab each other. Everyone else sat in there own district area, people ranging from drunk to vomiting in buckets or even yelling down the phone about sponsorship.<p>

"Hello Haymitch. Nice weather, isn't it?" Chaff stood behind me, his face in a grin. But there was no hiding the fear and dread in his eyes. There was no twinkle there today.

"Happy hunger games" I sighed flatly, "How many sponsors have your's got?"

"Have you seen them? They got a 2 and a 4 in training and the girl went on to the hovercraft screaming blue murder, crying for her mother. If either gets past the first 3 minutes we could scrape together and maybe get them a cracker each. But I seriously doubt it. You?"

I think back to what Salli had told me earlier. Michel had somehow managed to convince one woman to sponsor him. Maybe he looked like her son or something ridiculous. Mary had no one.

"The boy's got a rich woman backing him. Had a voice like a chainsaw though, and stank of peaches. I almost hope he dies off soon so I wont have to deal with her again."

Chaff raised an eyebrow and grinned. Then turned his back and sauntered off to his chair.

Before I have a chance to follow, a pleasant female voice fills the room. "Please can all mentors take their seats, the games are about to being in 30, 29, 28..."

"LET THE GAMES BEGIN, AND MY TBUTE WIN!" shouted a drunk from somewhere to my left. I feEL sorry for whoever he mentored. The games are hard enough withouthaving a dunk for a mentor.

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><p>As soon as the words escape my mouth I know I have upset Effie. She turns and shoots me a look of venom, her green lips pressed into a hard line.<p>

"Haymitch, please be quiet. We both know very well that Katniss might win this year, but there is really no need to boast."

I chortle. If only she knew what was actually going on. I remember when someone shouted the same thing on my first year of mentoring. Its my 23rd now. My boy came third, and the other died within 30 seconds of stepping of the plate. But thier tribute won. So why shouldn't I shout and scream? MY girl on fire will win. MY tribute. Sure, she is a pain beyond belief, but for the first time in all these years I have hope. She's already proving to be strong and I need her on my team. Finnick would make a good poster boy, but he's too perfect. I want people shouting his name because they believe he can overthrow Snow, not because they're in love with him. But, she, she would be perfect. 25 years of mentoring have taught me not to care about the tributes. You get drunk, forget life, sober up for a bit when there alive and collapse back into alcohol when they're dead. Its how it works. But, now, this girl on fire has burned away the alcohol and woke me up again. I'll get her out alive, whatever it takes. Fire destroys, and destroying the Capitol is what I'm planning to do.


End file.
